


The Bella 'Verse

by Bead



Series: Previously Unpublished SGA Stories [3]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Baby!Fic, Domestic Bliss, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-31
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2018-01-17 18:08:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1397521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bead/pseuds/Bead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney didn’t sit up until the mug scraped against the surface of the table.  When he did, he brushed a ruffly, mint-green sock off his cheek and reached for the coffee with both hands.  After a good, long, gulp, he looked up at John with big tragic eyes.  </p><p>“You went away and were gone for a long, <i>long</i> time,” he mourned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hurricaine Bella

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, yeah, I did originally post the Bella 'Verse on Casa McShep 'way back, but I discovered some chapters I never finished, muahahahahaha.
> 
> (The premise is that both John and Rodney are together and shacked up somewhere near Cheyenne Mountain, Rodney still does some work with the Stargate Program, and John teaches people to fly puddlejumpers,or something.)

~~~~~

John Sheppard was greeted with a happy shriek when he came in the door. He liked that. 

“Hi, sweetie,” he laughed softly, picking up his fuzzy-haired little daughter as she power-crawled across the kitchen floor. “Hi, hi.” 

“Ba-ba ba ba ba ba!!” Bella babbled and launched herself at her father’s nose, which she gummed with enthusiasm. 

“So, had a snack lately?” John asked conversationally. Unsquinching his face and detaching Bella from his nose, he looked over at Rodney, who had greeted John’s arrival with a face plant into the kitchen table. There were toys and papers and tiny little socks everywhere. 

“Hi honey, rough day?” 

“I hate you,” Rodney mumbled, voice muffled by the stack of Bella's laundry he had been folding. 

“That bad, huh?” He ambled over to Rodney’s side and rubbed between his shoulder blades. Bella, meanwhile, was trying to detach his left ear. He jerked his head to the side. “Sweetie, Daddy needs that to hold up his sunglasses.” 

“Baa-baa baa BAAAAA!” Bella shrieked, shrilly enough to make John’s eyes water. Or maybe it was the way she was beating her little hands against his head and face. 

“Okay, Belly-girl is a high-chair baby now,” John said firmly, tucking her into it and locking the tray in place. She did the super-sonic thing again, transferring her happy beating to the plastic surface. 

“Bella, I’m thinking maybe we should buy you some drums,” John said cheerfully as he sauntered over to the cabinets. “I think we’re holding back your musical development.” 

His answer was a long, low moan from the table and an enthusiastic shriek from the baby peanut gallery. John glanced at the clock, at Rodney, and while he was getting some cheerios out, grabbed the tin of coffee beans. After giving Bella some snacks to pulverize and massage into her hair, he ground coffee for Rodney. 

The tenor of Rodney’s moans changed to grateful and John smiled. 

Rodney didn’t sit up until the mug scraped against the surface of the table. When he did, he brushed a ruffly, mint-green sock off his cheek and reached for the coffee with both hands. After a good, long, gulp, he looked up at John with big tragic eyes. 

“You went away and were gone for a long, _long_ time,” he mourned. 

"Sorry, buddy." 

"Or you have portable time dilation field, which honestly, we should be using for sleep or what was that thing we used to not fall asleep during? Oh, yeah. Sex." 

“I pick both," John said with the fervor of the deprived. "She's full of beans this afternoon, huh?” 

“Another cognitive spurt, I think. She’s like a little crawling hurricane. Nothing is safe.” He shuddered and took another swig of his coffee while John rubbed little circles on his upper back. 

“Is that why every toy she owns is in the kitchen?”

Rodney nodded. “The, the shelves? And the pulling at them, some of those books are like her body weight so we have to rework those, because," he made shaky hand gesture, "squish. And and and, these,” he gestured to the baby-locked kitchen cabinets, “you know. Thingy.” 

“Aw, buddy,” John said, trying hard not to laugh. He wasn’t sure if he could keep it off his face, so he bent to kiss Rodney’s forehead. After, he smacked his lips. “Hmm,” he said speculatively, “applesauce.” He gave Rodney’s forehead a lick. 

Rodney shied away briefly, “OhmyGodthatisdisgusting,” he said in one breath and then, after a thoughtful moment, inclined his head toward John, face blandly innocent as he sipped his coffee. John obliged, giving his forehead a liquid, tongue-swirling kiss, then tilted Rodney’s chin up for a long, lingering smooch. 

“Mmm, second-hand caffeine,” he murmured against Rodney’s finally smiling mouth. Just as Rodney was leaning in for another kiss, they were hit with a scattershot of Cheerios. 

“BAA BAA BAAAAA!” Bella shrieked, not wanting to be left out. 

“Inside voice, Bella,” Rodney said firmly. 

“BAA ba BAA BAA _BAAA_ ,” Bella disagreed. They turned to look at their daughter. 

“Inside voice,” Rodney tried again, whispering.

“baa baa baa,” Bella replied, eyes big and round and as blue as Rodney’s.

“That’s our girl,” John whispered. 

”baa baa baa!, she breathed.

“Our beautiful, _good_ girl,” Rodney added, pushing a few Cheerios her way, “who doesn’t chew on Papa's brilliant hypothesis.” 

Bella laughed and threw back her head, “BAA BAA BAAAAAAAAAAA!!” she shrieked. John and Rodney cringed as one. 

“So, earplugs?” Rodney said, airily.

“Want me to go to the store?” John started to straighten up, but Rodney’s hand closed over his wrist in an iron grip. 

“Oh no you don’t. You’re staying here with Hurricane Bella.” 

“But you have applesauce in your hair.” Rodney’s grip on John did not loosen, but in fact, got a little more desperate. John kissed his forehead again and leaned his cheek against a non-applesauced bit of Rodney's hair.

”baa baa baa," Bella murmured contentedly, whispering to her snack before she shoved a fistful into into her mouth. 

“Oooh, hey,” John said, encouraged. 

“BAA BAA BAA BAA BAA!” This time, Bella beat her snack into submission before licking her fist free of crumbs. 

“Okay, that? All you. She just wishes she had C4.” 

“I dunno, Rodney,” John said, hunkering down to watch their daughter. “I’ve seen you when your computer locks up.” 

Bella offered her daddies a fistful of pulverized oats and essential vitamins. 

“Oh, that flirting is _all_ you,” Rodney whispered, nudging John with his elbow. 

“Naw, that’s your smile,” John whispered back. 

“But the goofy wanna-see-how-gross-this-is charm? All you.” 

“Yeah. Probably.” 

“It’s a good thing she’s cute,” Rodney said with not a bit of his usual sting. “It’s a good thing _you’re_ cute, he added, looping an arm around John’s shoulders. 

Snorting, John leaned against Rodney’s side. “Don’t I know it.”

~~~


	2. What Goes 'Round

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Thircles,” Bella interrupted, holding up a three-quarter-moon-due-to-bite-mark piece of cheese. 
> 
> “That’s right, Bella,” Rodney said, rocking on his heels happily, “that is a circle.”
> 
> John made kind of a grinding noise. 
> 
> “You okay?” John had progressed to torturing his sandwich crusts by slowly tearing them apart. 
> 
> “Yeah. Just a long morning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My niece totally did this. Always steal from the best, no?

~~~

“Did you guys go out?” Rodney asked as he breezed into the kitchen, flush with post minion-bashing success. 

“Yeah,” John said dully, munching on oddly-shaped bits of sandwich. “Had to get some stuff.” 

“I could have…I mean, you could have called, I would have been happy to…”

“Thircles,” Bella interrupted, holding up a three-quarter-moon-due-to-bite-mark piece of cheese. 

“That’s right, Bella,” Rodney said, rocking on his heels happily, “that is a circle.”

John made kind of a grinding noise. 

“You okay?” John had progressed to torturing his sandwich crusts by slowly tearing them apart. 

“Yeah. Just a long morning.” 

“How come?” Rodney sat and plucked a still un-tortured bit of sandwich off John’s plate. He raised it to his mouth and stopped suddenly. “What did you do to this?” 

“Bella won’t play with, won't talk about, won't eat _anything_ but circles today,” John said, rubbing his hands over his face and into his hair, making it wilder than usual. “These are the not-circle bits.” 

“Oh, _really?_ ” Rodney beamed at their daughter, charmed and proud. She beamed back. 

“Thircles,” she whispered, and waved a carrot coin at him. 

“Had to go get some cookie cutters,” John muttered, mashing the remaining bits of his sandwich in a vindictive manner. "You wouldn't believe what I went through to get her dressed." 

“Cookie cutters? You couldn’t just use the...” John cut Rodney off with a look and Rodney flipped his palms up, placating his clearly-about-to-snap husband. 

“Juice?” Bella asked very sweetly. “Juice, pease.”

Rodney put his hand on John’s shoulder. “I’ll get it. You just…finish violating your sandwich’s Geneva Convention rights.” Rodney got an organic apple juice box out of the fridge and hooked his pinky though the handle of one of Bella’s sippy cups, because neither one of them was comfortable with Bella and those tiny straws. He set the juice down on Bella’s tray to unscrew the top of the cup. 

By the time he was done, Bella was looking at him with big, wounded Anime eyes and her lower lip was trembling. 

“Sweetie?” Rodney said, confused, “I’ve got your juice right here, see?” He held up the juice box and waved it a little. “Happy little juice box for happy little girl?” 

“Thircles,” Bella quavered, tears trembling in her eyes. _“Thircles.”_ She sounded desperate.

“Put it in the cup, Rodney, hurry,” John said, his voice sounding a little quavery, too. 

“What? _Oh_.” Rodney turned his back and decanted the juice in to the little cup, tucked the offending rectangular box under his arm and screwed the top on. “There,” he said, presenting the round-bottomed cup to his daughter, “juice. In a kind of circular, slightly modified part-spherical part-cylindrical...” 

“Rodney,” John said warningly as Bella looked Rodney, wounded and skeptical and just about to tip over into _not liking this at all._

“Sort of a three-dimensional circle,” Rodney amended hastily, and rocked the cup with his finger. “Circle that can rock and roll and give you yummy juice!” 

“Th-thircle?” She still wasn’t quite sure. 

Rodney opened his mouth to explain the nature of spheres and circles and cylinders and why juice couldn't be served in circular shapes until it was perhaps frozen, but John cut him off. 

“Yes, sweetie, circle.” 

Gazing suspiciously at Rodney, Bella picked up her cup and began to drink. 

“Well, she shows admirable focus,” Rodney ventured. John snorted, got up from the table and carried his plate to the sink. 

“Hmmmm,” Rodney mused, watching their daughter rock her sippy cup back and forth. “I wonder if she’s going to go through a whole shape phase? Oh my God, what if this is like the Wearin o’the Purple? John?”

Leaning against the counter, John gave him a tired smile and held up a slightly mangled package of cookie cutters. 

“Ooooo, excellent thinking. But what if she wants, I dunno, say, a parallelogram?” 

“Not that she can say that many syllables, but,” John fished out a diamond-shaped cookie cutter and turned it sideways. “And there’s that penne rigate that’s cut on a slant.” 

“Hello, Mr. Tactical.” 

John shot him with a finger gun. “That’s Colonel Tactical, retired, to you, buster.” 

“What if she….” 

“Rodney. She’s barely fifteen months old. Even ahead of the curve as she is, I don’t think she’s going to start asking for decohedrons this week.” 

“But…”

John pointed at himself. “Aeronautical,” he pointed at Rodney, “and Mechanical Engineering _and_ Physics and Astrophysics. I think we’ll be okay. What we can’t find we can fabricate." 

“Right.” 

Bella craned her neck to look up at Rodney. “Thphere?” she asked, and poked at her cup. “Thircle?" She frowned at her cup again, watching it rock. “Thphere?” 

Rodney couldn’t help it; he grinned proudly and reached out a hand to brush Bella’s peachy cheek. "Circle," he said, picking up one of her pieces of bread and holding it up like a monocle. Bella grinned at him. Rodney dramatically rolled it in his palms for a moment and then opened his palm and presented her a compacted bread-ball. "Sphere!"

Bella frowned. "Ball." 

"Yes, ball. A ball is a sphere." 

John slithered to the floor and lay there, moaning. 

Eyebrows scrunched together, Bella regarded the sphere. "Ball," she said firmly. 

"A ball is a sphere. It's a more grown-up name for ball." 

"A big girl name," John offered. Rodney shot a smile at him. Bella always wanted to be a big girl like her cousin Madison. 

Bella mulled that over. "Thphere, Papa?" 

"Yes!" Rodney leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "And a thircle, I mean, a circle is part of a sphere." He bit the bread-ball/sphere in half and showed the uneaten portion to Bella. "See? If a sphere is cut exactly in half you get a circle. A great circle. It's the largest circle that can be drawn on a sphere." 

"Papa," Bella giggled, clearly thinking he was nuts. 

"Okay, so this one is a little mushed up, but I swear, it's true," Rodney told her earnestly, snitching a piece of cheese from her tray. "Mmmm, that circle is _great._ " 

While Bella laughed and clapped, John let out a snort. “You’re making dinner,” he announced, holding up one finger. “Meatballs. Wheel pasta.” 

“Peas?” 

“Thircles.” 

“And spheres,” Rodney prompted. 

“An’ thpheres,” Bella agreed.


	3. Fertile Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Bella came to be. 
> 
> _“We cleared it all the way up to the President, Rodney. He wanted me to let him know if we throw you guys a shower.”_
> 
> _Somehow, that was what really convinced Rodney this was really real. “He did?”  
> _

~~~

Madison was their flower girl. Rodney watched John play with her, dance with her, be so good with her and oh, how it made his heart ache. They didn’t talk about it, but once, while they were sitting on the couch coloring, all Rodney could think was _I want that._

Sometimes, Rodney thought about bringing up adoption. Or maybe surrogacy or maybe if Jeannie donated an egg and John…all such a shot in the dark. Which, Rodney supposed, was how it was for everyone, but with less weirdness. 

~~~

It was Jennifer who started the whole thing. Well, okay, Rodney started out wanting kids, but Jennifer was the one to give him the opportunity, just not in the way he had originally envisioned. Two years after Rodney married John, Jennifer came to Rodney’s lab with a proposal. Made him sit down before she said anything. He was grateful for that. 

“We’ve tested it six ways to Sunday and were about to mothball it until we could figure how to offer the technology to the “real” world, since it’s oh, still about a billion years away from what’s available. And I thought, you know, if there’s one person who should be able to use this thing right now, who should be able to pass his genes on…”

“You would do that for me? For us? Even after?”

She smiled wide enough that her dimples showed. “Rodney,” she said affectionately, “we were friends, first. Both of you were.”

“So, what do I do? How am I going to explain it to John? 

“You tell John we need a sample from both of you, so Carson and I can plug them in and work some Ancient magic.” She twiddled her fingers at him when she said "magic". 

“Okay. That’s. Okay.” Rodney tried to swallow against the lump in his throat. “Um, so, why did you do this instead of Carson?” 

Jennifer flashed her dimples again. “’Cause it was my idea,” she said simply, kissed him on the cheek and lurched out of her chair. She walked to the door slowly, still adapting, he supposed, to her ever-growing belly, leaving him to think about starting a family of his own. 

“That,” she added over her shoulder, a familiar chiding note in her voice, “and he was afraid he’d cry halfway through the pitch and you’re just awful with that.” 

“Well, it’s unnerving! Hey, wait. You’ve cleared this with Landry, right? Maybe I shouldn’t say anything to John until…” 

Her eyes sparkled, full of affection and mischief. “We cleared it all the way up to the President, Rodney. He wanted me to let him know if we throw you guys a shower.”

Somehow, that was what really convinced Rodney this was really real. “He did?”

She squinted a little, obviously trying to quote from memory. “’From what I understand, I have the SGC, and them specifically, to thank for protecting the earth many times over.’ And he asked me if I was asking for forgiveness or permission, I said permission and he said, "Good, 'cause I'm running out of medals and I never get to trump a Nobel.'"

Rodney snorted a little hysterically and pressed his hand against his mouth. 

“Let me know about the shower. And oh, yeah, if you wanna have the baby.” 

~~~

They got married once they figured out John’s leg was going to take him out of the field permanently. DADT had been gone for about a year, so that wasn't it, just that suddenly retiring (and being hired back on as a flight training consultant) had evidently made everything feel more serious and settled in John’s mind. 

Rodney supposed John never quite stopped assuming he’d go out sometime, somewhere with a bomb strapped to his back, running headlong into an impossible mission, because John always gave everything. Committed everything. 

He walked around for a week looking like he was going to throw up or pass out and finally, and just before Rodney was going to haul him into SGC medical, he turned up with a pair of rings and a shaky, hopeful smile. 

Like Rodney would have said anything but yes. 

~~~

Nancy had miscarried more than once, and John didn’t spell every word out, but it was pretty clear that it wasn’t one of those situations that brought them closer together, but made a gaping, ragged hole they kept trying to patch until they just couldn’t anymore. 

~~~

Impending marriage and the freedom of semi-retirement drove John into a lazy frenzy - lazy until you looked at the set of his jaw - of home improvement, like it was the house that was getting married, was desperate for a makeover and John needed to sidle up to it in case it got skittish. 

Daniel and Sam lingered after their see-our-renovations/pre-wedding party, listened to the Rodney’s only slightly embellished stories and Daniel narrowed his eyes and was silent for a long time while the conversation flowed around him.

“What?” Rodney said, prodding him with his foot. 

Blushing, Daniel ducked his head and said slowly, “Some mating rituals entail the husband building a nest or bower for his mate.” Sam snorted beer up her nose, which caused John to snort beer up _his_ nose and Rodney squawked that he was so not the wife. 

~~~

John looked poleaxed when Rodney just blurted the whole thing, and dropped his favorite hammer on his foot. He didn’t even seem to notice. 

“What?” he asked, quiet and low, his voice shaking. “President Obama wants to give us a baby?” 

“No, no no, well, yes, sort of, but Jennifer – it’s her idea – and Carson have been studying this piece of medical tech and figured out it’s the Ancient equivalent of an infertility treatment. Infertility _solution_ , I’d say. And we, um, have a bit of a fertility problem, that is. With each other.” 

“A baby?” John asked, voice cracking. Rodney had only seen John that close to tears when Rodney was dying. “From…” he gestured between them.

“Yeah,” Rodney whispered. 

John crumpled to his knees on the cold garage floor. “I had no idea I wanted this,” he looked up at Rodney, dazed. “I just…you know.” 

Rodney went to him and pulled John into his arms. “Okay, then,” he said and they just knelt there a moment, shaking together, until Rodney wiped his eyes on John’s cotton-clad shoulder.

“You did not just wipe your snotty face on me,” John said, incredulous and half-laughing. 

“Get used to it.” John shivered under his hands and made a yearning noise against Rodney’s throat. 

“We’re gonna have…” John whispered, breath hot against Rodney’s skin. He couldn’t seem to get the rest of the words out. 

Heart too full to speak, Rodney kissed him. And if they laughed into each other’s mouths and pawed at each other and if sawdust got everywhere and there were messy, sniffling kisses there on the garage floor, well, Rodney kept that part to himself, because that right then, Rodney believed, that’s when Bella was really conceived.


	4. The Bella Jar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not just the baby that grows. Originally published in 2009

~~~

John and Rodney decided that they didn’t want to know the sex of their baby, though the Ancient device asked for a choice. They let Carson and Jennifer decide. 

Okay, what really happened was that John decided he didn’t want to know and talked Rodney around using every tool in his persuasive arsenal and _then_ he got creative. Rodney didn’t bother to tell him that he agreed until after they were both really sticky and sweaty. He felt it was his duty to encourage John’s creativity. 

Carson felt that he added a little bit of Atlantis history to the decision when he suggested a coin toss. John rolled his eyes, but Carson could tell he was flattered. 

~~~

John remained still and silent, watching the device for nearly an hour after they triggered it using John and Rodney’s DNA. Rodney pretended to be helping Jennifer calibrate some sensors in the bone-knitter, but his eyes kept darting to John and the machine. 

“Not like there’s going to be anything to see for awhile, lads,” Carson said kindly. “Not like that’s a microwave and she’s a bag o’popcorn.” 

John’s head shot up, “She?” 

“Carson!” Jennifer snapped. 

“Oh, bollocks.” 

_”She?”_

“Carson?” Rodney’s voice cracked. 

“Aye, lads, sorry. It’s a girl.” 

“No,” John said, placing a reverent hand on the machine. “No, that’s…” He looked at Rodney, face flushed. “Hey, Rodney - ” 

“I know,” Rodney fumbled for John’s other hand. 

John stroked down the tank where the little cells were busy dividing. “Hi, sweetie,” he whispered. “Hi.”

~~~

“It might be sentimental, but my, have you seen the two of them with Rodney’s niece?” Carson said, after blowing his nose noisily. “My gracious, what a day.” 

“I thought you decided by coin toss,” Jennifer replied, wiping her own eyes.

“Aye. Two-headed coin.”

“You cheated!”

Carson’s eyes were bloodshot but twinkling. “Aye.” 

~~~

John called the device The BabyTron 2000. Everyone rolled their eyes and groaned, but nobody could figure out a better name. 

~~~

The shower happened only after Sam pointed out that if they didn’t have one, everybody would just stop by with a present and stay as long as they liked. She and Jennifer, who had just had a baby shower of her own, handled all the details; food, invitations, decorations, r.s.v.p, the works. 

“How did we lose control of this?” Rodney asked. 

“Do you want to go pick out invitations and stuff?” 

“I’m not turning over choosing what we need to anybody, even Sam,” Rodney warned. “You have no idea how many car seats there are out there.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

“You just go over there and be all…buildy.” 

“I will.” 

“I know.” 

“I’m going.” 

“Go.” 

John remained slouched in the doorway. 

“What?” Rodney said. 

“Um. Just. Let’s not do the whole pink thing. Unless, you know, she likes it. Later.” 

“Oh. God, no. It’s a spurious cultural tradition started in the fifties, all this blue-for-boy, pink-for-girl.”

“Okay.” He slouched off down the hall, but seconds later, he was back.

“And not ‘new’ Pooh. So uncool,” he declared, hands on his hips.

Rodney gently beat his head against the table. “Is there something you like in particular?” 

“Um,” John said uncertainly, and then was across the room in two huge steps. He swiveled the laptop to face him, tapped and clicked for a moment, then turned the computer around.

"Oh. [Very](http://pics.livejournal.com/beadattitude/pic/0001r2fy/g30) nice." Rodney said. “And there are [sheets](http://pics.livejournal.com/beadattitude/pic/0001ssf1/g30) with little rockets on them.” 

“Yeah, and, um, for extras, there are some from the same company that are just stars. They’d totally match.” 

Rodney grinned at him. “Solar system and stars, huh?” 

John ears flushed bright red and he rubbed the back of his neck. “’Think about where you are in the universe,’” he quoted softly.

“Oh,” Rodney said around the planet-sized lump in his throat. “You enormous dork.” 

~~~

Rodney took to rocking back and forth and muttering to the baby section on the Consumer Reports webpage. He quizzed Jeannie at all hours of the day or night (the night part he did exactly once and rubbed his ear for three hours, afterward.) 

One day he sat at the computer and crooned, “Booooon, Booon.” Turned out he found a feeding spoon thing that stored food in the handle so you could feed the kid one-handed. It was made by a company named Boon. 

John clicked “Add to Wish List,” gently shut the computer and led Rodney off to bed.

~~~

“You picked a name yet?” asked everyone they knew.

~~~

“Ronon’s a good name for a boy or a girl,” Ronon pointed out with disturbing sweetness. 

Behind him on the video screen, Teyla rolled her eyes. 

“My daughter is not wearing knives in her hair!” Rodney cried. John cracked up. 

“Never said she had to,” Ronon rumbled. “Effective, though.” 

John cracked up more and nearly fell off his chair. 

“What is wrong with you?” Rodney muttered, swatting at him. 

“Little baby dreads,” John whooped, trying to catch his breath, “little baby pulse gun.” 

“Little baby leather pants,” Teyla offered, smiling broadly. 

“How are we going to get those on over diapers?” Rodney scoffed. That got everybody, and they were just wiping their eyes when General Landry poked his head in the door and said, “Were those the gentle, dulcet tones of Colonel Sheppard, or were you people torturing a donkey?” 

~~~

They wanted to hover around Carson and Jennifer’s lab all time for the first few weeks, and finally they offered to let Rodney put up a secure camera feed so they could see her any time they wanted. Preferably from home.

John still managed to stop by once a week or so, asked questions and looked sometimes like he didn’t quite trust the answers.

“If something was wrong, John, we would have known right away,” Jennifer tried to assure him. “And there are provisions if – at any time down the line – there is a problem, we can fix it. We made a bunch of bunnies and pigs and a couple of chimpanzees with this, okay? I would – we would – not put you through this if we hadn’t.” 

He clenched his jaw and nodded, not looking at her, and breathed hard for a few moments. “Okay,” he said, “okay.” 

“Did Rodney not tell you any of this?” 

“Yeah. I just. You know.” 

She tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and stroked her own growing belly. “I know.” 

~~~

Once the invitations were sent, Sam said. “Don’t you dare buy one single thing from your gift registry until after the party.”

“But,” Rodney protested. 

“No.” 

“But -”

“ _No_. You wouldn’t sign up anywhere for the wedding and look how that turned out.” She pointed to the hideous boy-and-burro chip and dip set, overflowing with loose pocket change. Someone had drawn a mustache on the boy. And the burro.

“But -” 

“Let people do something nice for you, Rodney. And give you stuff you’ll need. People like doing that.” 

Rodney deflated. “Why? I mean, I get why the list is helpful and all but…” 

Sam patted his hand. “You don’t have to get it. Just enjoy it.” 

“But -” 

Her eyes went steely. “Enjoy it.” 

“Okay,” he said in a small voice. 

“Good. Now dazzle me with the new specs for the wormhole drive.” 

“You’re being really nice to me. You don’t think fatherhood is going to slow me down, make me lose my edge do you? Because I’ll…I swear, Sam…” 

Sam grinned. “Rodney. I can’t think of anything on _Earth_ that would mellow you.”

“You’re not just saying that,” he said, staring at her in wonder. “Huh.” 

~~~

“Why BabyTron _2000_ , “Rodney asked, “that was over a decade ago.”

“Carson figures that’s about how old the device is.”

Rodney paled. “Our daughter is in a 2000-year-old incubator.” 

“Rodney, we _lived_ in a 10,000 year-old _city_. Which we flew. And had showers in and transported from here to there in and _lived in_.”

“But, but…”

“They made kittens!” John singsonged, then really looked at Rodney’s face. “Come on, you checked it over yourself.” 

“I know, I know. Um, I…” he bustled away. John wasn’t surprised to hear his car peel out of the garage.

He sat down in front of his laptop with a sandwich and waited, the BabyTron cam in a dedicated window at the top of his screen, watching for his daughter to swim by. Half an hour later, Rodney appeared on camera with an Ancient PDA and a bag of tools, somehow managing to gesticulate wildly despite his full hands.

The phone rang. “What happened?” Jennifer’s weary voice asked. She had her own cam feed piped to her office, just off the main lab.

“How did you know I’m watching?”

“It’s lunchtime,” she said, the smile in her voice clear.

John wiped his hand on his shirt. When did he get so predictable? “It hit him how old the equipment was,” he confessed. “I mighta had something to do with that.” 

“We lived in a 10,000 year old city! We did extensive tests on the equipment! He checked it over for many unnecessary days before we got started!” 

“I know! He knows! He’s been letting me do all the freaking out. I figure he has it coming.” 

“Okay,” she said, sighing. “Should I let him run down on his own or go over there and help Carson talk him out of his tree?”

John knew how much Rodney hated Jennifer’s version of out-of-tree-talking. “He’ll probably run down on his own. But if Carson starts to get all red-faced and veiny...”

“I’m on it.” 

~~~

“Did you ever think about,” Rodney asked Sam later, “maybe about doing it yourself?” 

“Instead of the old-fashioned way?” Sam’s eyes danced with laughter. “Because you, know,” she lowered her voice conspiratorially, “I am a girl.” 

“Ha, ha. No, I mean, yes. I mean. You know what I mean!” 

“I have Cassandra,” she said simply. “I got to spend a lot of time with her when she was growing up.” She pointed her jello spoon at Rodney. “And I’m going to do the same with your daughter since I was cheated out of Torren’s baby phase by the IOA.”

Rodney considered this. “A strong female role model is important,” he agreed. 

“Plus,” Sam said slyly, “it’s so much more fun to hang out with kids and then give them back when they’re stinky or start to cry.” 

“And people think you and Radek are the nice ones. They have no idea.” 

Sam grinned at him around her spoon. 

~~~

“You have to pick something,” Jeannie said. “I heard about the whole ‘Cat’ debacle.” 

“It’s not like she answered to it anyway,” Rodney protested. 

“Yeah, but Cat was _a cat._ ”

~~~

John did not like when the BabyTron put up a screen around most of the tank.

“Why is the window so small?” John whined. “I miss being able to see her.”

“It’s there so not as to damage the wee baby’s eyes, you know that. It’s that machine adjusting for the ambient light.” 

“I know.”

“I could dim the lights and let you see, lad. Rodney looks, from time to time, as do I, but,” he said hastily, “because I like to check for meself sometimes. Not that anything’s wrong.” 

“I know. And Rodney’ll open his Christmas presents early if you let him, too.” 

“I take it you want to preserve the mystery?” 

“Yeah. I think so, actually.” 

~~~ 

Rodney started researching baby names. John bought “What To Expect When You’re Expecting,” which he carried around half-guiltily. 

“If you start having sympathetic morning sickness _on behalf of a machine_ I’ll throw up on you,” Rodney vowed. 

“I’m more likely to want you to rub my feet and have weird cravings,” John replied sweetly and batted his eyes at Rodney. 

“You’ll do anything for a massage.” 

John’s smile slid into a sultry grin. He stretched, showing off a sliver of belly. 

“You’ll fall asleep before we can get to the dirty part of the massage.” 

“No, I won’t.”

“Yes, you will.” 

“No,” John said firmly, earnestly, slyly. “I won’t. And if won’t matter if I do.” 

Rodney’s breath caught a little. “Why’s that?” 

John’s gaze was all heat and he sat up to whisper in Rodney's ear.

"Oh," Rodney replied, eyes glazed. "I guess you would wake up for that." 

~~~

Rodney woke up one night to John muttering and thrashing.

“It’s just,” John said as if they had been discussing something, “how’ll she know she’s ours?” 

_Okay_ ,” Rodney thought, even as his heart was breaking a little and he didn’t know why exactly. _This is new and disturbing._ Knowing not to wake John up when he was thrashing like this, because John was liable to startle and knock the stuffing out of him, he carefully snuggled up behind him and allowed the warmth and stillness of his own body be calming. 

John mmmfhed fretfully a couple of times and leaned back against Rodney’s chest. 

“Why won’t she know?” Rodney asked softly, lightly resting his hand on John’s hip. 

“No heart.” John slurred.

“Hmm?”

“Can’t hear. Ours. Anybody’s heart. How will she?” his voice curled up anxiously at the end. 

_Oh._ Rodney swallowed thickly. “She’ll know,” he crooned softly, stroking up and down John’s side. “Make sure of it.” 

John subsided, finally, back into normal sleep. 

~~~~

“Naming her Elizabeth would be too weird, wouldn’t it?” John asked over cereal one morning. 

“Might help.”

“You really think so?”

“No.” 

“Maybe as middle name.”

“She’s already got, like, four potential middle names and a hyphenated last name. She’s not the queen of England!” 

“Point taken.” 

~~~

“You want me to what?”

“I want you to change the BabyTron’s settings to match John’s normal heart rate. I know it simulates, but. You know.”

“Oh. _Oh._ John’s. And this would be because….”

“He’s worried about her not recognizing us, okay, Carson! And I can’t find anything in his stupid books to tell me he’s being silly!”

“Fine, Rodney. It’s fine.”

“And we’ll be down there talking to her and maybe playing some music, maybe a lot of music and maybe soon before John can get his Johnny Cash mitts into her, okay? And if you and Jennifer don’t like it, you’ll just have to suck it up.”

“I’ve got no trouble with any of it, lad. Come away. Her ears aren’t completely formed yet, but I have no quibble with ye.” 

“Well, then. Fine.”

~~~

Unsatisfied with a rough half-dozen books, John took to clearing out entire infant and child care sections at the local bookstores and trying to sneak them inside the house when Rodney wasn’t looking. As if Rodney would miss the Tower of Pisa teetering at John’s bedside table. 

“Why can’t you do your freak-out research on the internet like normal people?” 

“Because these people have, I dunno, proofreaders and fact-checkers? Plus mumble mumble.” 

“What was that?”

“I just like the way books feel,” John said sullenly.

Rodney literally clutched his heart. “Oh my God,” he said, “Sometimes I forget you’re one of us.” 

“What.” John was glowering and his lower lip was starting to slide forward. 

“A geek!” Rodney crowed. “But seriously, the rest of the tribe has elected to stop killing trees.” 

“That would be so much more meaningful if I didn’t have to sort out your recycling _every single week_ , Mr. What Global Warming.” 

“I believe in global warming, you, you tree-killer.” 

“Yeah, yeah, but your money where your mouth is, land-fill hog. Just. Just go look up baby names or something.”

“Fine.” 

~~~

“So. What was that all about?”

“Which one of us is freaking out more. And apparently I have some issues with your recycling habits and you’re a stupidhead.” 

Rodney snorted and climbed into bed, curling around John and his book.

“I, um. You know.” 

“Yeah, buddy.” John turned his head for a kiss. “Me, too.”

~~~ 

“You know, we’re probably going to have to learn how to say that stuff out loud. Babies need to hear the words, you know.”

“I can when I need to.” 

“When you _need_ to? Like when you _need_ to say you’re sorry?” 

“No! I apologize plenty. And well!”

“Oh, like the time you _shot everybody?_ ” 

“Yes! No! The other thing! And I’m not going to shoot the baby!” 

“What other thing?”

“I love you!” John growled. “See? Can too say it.” 

“Um?” Rodney squeaked. “Me, too?” 

~~~

John bellowed, “ **I love you,** ” across the length of the house.

“What? WHAT?” Rodney called back. John stomped over to his office. Rodney eyed him warily. “Those books are warping you.” 

“What?” John huffed. “I’m acclimating. You said we had to get used to saying this kind of stuff.” 

Rodney blinked at him. 

“I’m sorry!” John threw up his hands. “I’m trying!” 

“What is it with the yelling?”

“I figure I’ll feel less stupid about it later if I start out like this and work my way down in volume.” 

“I just don’t even know what to say to that.” 

“ **You’re awesome!”** John suggested. **“You’re going to be a very affirming dad!”**

“ **I love you!”** Rodney hollered back.

 **“That works, too!”**

“Oh my God, I can’t wait until you get through this phase.” 

“I just don’t know how to _do_ this,” John said unhappily, slouching in the doorway. “Kids need to hear this stuff. I just. I can’t…I don’t want it to be like…”

“You’re doing fine, Mr. Megaphone.” 

John slunk over and kissed Rodney’s head. **“Love you,”** he whisper-bellowed in Rodney’s ear. 

~~~

“Rodney,” all of John’s hair was sticking straight up. “Can we hear sound over the BabyCam?” 

“What?” Rodney blinked and wiped a bit of drool off his chin. “What?”

“We should be able to hear her heart beating. Or would if we, you know, had a uterus and an ultrasound. Do you think we could?” 

“Yeah, I think – yeah…” Rodney got up and started pulling on shirts. 

“What? I mean, we don’t have to go right now,” John said, obviously starting to feel a little guilty about the time of night.

“Are you kidding? I’m not gonna be able to sleep until….”

“Yeah, okay.” John grinned and started fishing around for a pair of shoes.

~~~

“What I want to know,” Carson said, “is why you broke into my lab in your pajamas.” 

~~~

“Amelia,” Rodney read from his list. “Aviation, pioneer, strong role model.” 

“She disappeared, Rodney. Plus, um. Bedelia."

“What?”

“Amelia [Bedelia.](http://sistergrimm.net/2008/11/18/amelia-bedelia-deliberately-bringing-blue-blood-to-a-boiling-red/) Children’s book.” 

“I take it not the best role model?” 

“She dresses chickens.”

“Yes?” 

“In pants.” 

“I see.” Rodney drew a line through the list. “I take it Eloise should be out as well? And Alice? As in Wonderland?”

John made a face. “She took all those drugs.”

Rodney groaned and flopped back on the sofa, his hands over his face. “Our daughter is going to end up being named ‘Girl.’ Or ‘Cat.’” 

“Cat?”

Rodney made a twisting, discouraged gesture. “Habit.” 

~~~

Somehow, Rodney figured out that Nancy miscarried each time around the three-month mark. After a week (and maybe this is how he figured it out) of catching John asleep, curled around his laptop, he programmed John’s iPhone so he could watch the baby’s progress anytime, anywhere there was wifi access. 

John snuggled against Rodney’s shoulder that night and they watched Baby Cam until they both drifted off, hypnotized by the rhythmic hum of the BabyTron. 

~~~

“Hey,” John said a day or two later, smiling a little sheepishly. “You wanna maybe put a mix tape together for her? Read her some stories? She can hear outside sounds now.” He shrugged. “She might not be able to understand for a little while, but her ears are all ready and stuff.” 

“Oooh,” Rodney said, “sounds cool.” 

“Cool,” John said, and bounced on his heels. 

“Excellent. How about I meet you after your last class today?” 

“Okay.” John looked pleased and bounced some more. 

~~~

John made a copy of Rodney’s mix tape and started to learn all the ones that sounded like lullabies, bending over his guitar and sounding them out note by note. 

~~~

“Marie?” John called out from the kitchen. 

“Marie Curie? How could you even? She was _poisoned!_ God, that is so like you with the whole my-life-is-disposable thing.”

John poked his head around the door. “Well, it’s not like she _knew._ ” 

“Maybe as a middle name?” 

“We’re up to six now.” 

“Right.” 

John slunk back to his pasta sauce. 

“Why did you even think of that, anyway?” 

John mumbled something. Rodney got up and stomped to the kitchen. “What was that?”

“My grandmother was named Marie,” John muttered. “The one I knew.” 

“Oh. Genevieve.”

“Huh?”

“My maternal grandmother was Genevieve.”

“Why haven’t you suggested that one, it’s pretty.” 

Rodney leaned against the counter and snitched a stray bit of red pepper. “It’s clunky. Genevieve,” he made a lilting gesture, “McKay-Sheppard,” his hand dropped like a stone. Doesn’t flow. The ‘McKay’ throws it off, I’m afraid.” 

John scratched the back of his head. “Okay. So we would be thinking of this _with_ our last names?”

“Yeah,” Rodney said, the “duh” apparent in his voice.

“Sorry,” John said, the tips of his ears pink, “not exactly musical as you or whatever.” 

Rodney sidled up and kissed the back of John’s neck until he smiled and pushed back into Rodney’s arms. 

“You’re just buttering me up because you still like Amelia,” John murmured. “Or are waiting to play the Meredith card?”

“Uh-uh. Jeannie’s playing the Meredith card. She took dibs.” Rodney reached around to switch off the stove and shifted John in his arms so that he could nibble on the side of his neck.

“What? Is she?” John arched into his touch.

“Mmm-hmmm, a month behind us.” 

“What?” 

“So competitive, I know.” 

John turned to look at him. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Unbelievably, she didn’t want to hog the limelight, since she’s done this before,” Rodney said, grinning. He kissed John’s nose. 

John looked at him suspiciously. 

“That’s what she said!” 

_And you were worried enough,_ is what Rodney didn’t say. 

~~~

John had a bunch of battered Winnie the Pooh books that he read to the baby. Rodney looked at their worn green and red covers, opened them, traced the classic illustrations and raised his eyebrows. 

“Dave sent ‘em.” John muttered. “Said his kids were into Harry Potter and Narnia and stuff now.” 

“Oh,” Rodney said, blinking. He’d never, ever seen a bit of John’s childhood. 

~~~

“Does it seem to you like, all of a sudden, everybody’s having a baby?” John said as he came in with the groceries. “Jeannie, Jennifer…”

“Apparently it’s the J-names’ turn,” Rodney said absently. 

“What, does that make you J-Rodney?”

Rodney plucked one of his baby-names lists off the coffee table and began reading. “No Jrrr names, but I do have Jumoke, which is Yoruban for ‘everyone loves the baby.’ Is that me or does that seem a little pushy? ‘You must love my baby!’ Hmmm, and Jun, which is Korean for light and June, which is Greek for um, June the month, duh. And there’s Justine, which is Hebrew and Latin for just or true – and how can that be both Hebrew and Latin? I don’t know. Languages are so slipshod. And then, then there’s Jyoti, which is Hindu for light, which is nice but I really think I’m not pronouncing it properly.” He looked up and John was blinking rapidly. 

“You just…” he gestured to the pile of notes by Rodney’s desk. 

“Yes, I printed them out, I’m sorry! I’m a tree-killer! Your tree-killing ways have infected me!” 

“No, you….”

“I am not calling our daughter ‘Cat,’” Rodney said primly.

John’s grin was fond. “Rodney,” he drawled. He padded over to wrap Rodney up in his arms and kiss-attack his neck. “Juuuuumoke,” he growled. “Juuuuumooooookeeee.”

“No, stop that!” Rodney flailed and tried to hit John with the name-pages, “I do not want everyone to love my baby!” 

~~~

“Did you know,” John announced, “that if our baby continued growing at the same rate that she grows during the second trimester _after_ she was born, she’d be thirteen feet tall by her one month birthday?”

“Our very own post-nuclear horror movie!” 

“I _know_.” 

~~~

“Sometimes, do you feel like you’re a whole different person, now?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Wonder what it’ll be like when she gets here.” 

“Probably that, but more so.”

“No more sexy gay guys next door.”

“Sexy gay _daddies_.”

“Is that hotter?”

“Oh yeah. Plus, women will pity us and offer to change the baby’s diapers.” 

“What?”

“Don’t you remember Torrin’s diapers?” 

“We didn’t think this through.”

“Maybe not _that_ different.” 

~~~

How the sleepovers started:

“Did you know that babies have 300 bones and by the 15th week or so, all of them will have been formed?”

“Well, yeah, the head thing.” 

“I know. But. She’s. You know.”

“I’ll get the keys.” 

“Meetcha at the car.”

~~~ 

“Carson, remember how we talked about maybe putting a cot or two over in the back of the lab?”

“Near the BabyTron? Oh, don’t tell me. This soon? They’re asleep over there like great stupid puppies, aren’t they?” 

“Yup.” 

~~~

“We have no living female relatives but Jeannie! And she’s due four and a half weeks after us! Jennifer is due a month _before_ us and Sam’s got no infant experience and _Teyla is in another galaxy!!_ ”

“And?”

“They’re going to send us home with a _baby_.” Rodney said, chest heaving. “We have no idea what we’re doing!”

“Rodney, you _delivered_ a baby.”

“Not a skill set relevant in this situation! And Teyla talked me through that!”

“Relax. Teyla’s coming for two weeks, after,” John made the gesture for “baby we haven’t named yet,” “gets here.”

“Were you going to tell me this?”

“I just did.” 

“But!” 

“I thought I was the one freaking out about development and screwing her up and you were the one freaking out about names.” 

“Oh, I’m freaked out about plenty! Cabinets and toilet seats and table corners and…did you know that houses are baby deathtraps? It would be so much easier to live in a yurt. Or something easily hosed down.” 

“We’re not living in a yurt, Rodney, but yeah, you’re right. Safety is very important.” 

“Don’t talk to me like that; I’ve been working on the baby product list for _eight weeks_. I’m barely restraining myself from baby proofing everything before she’s born, let alone walking or crawling. And I’m worried about the name because I don’t want her to be warped either. Meredith! Meredith Rodney Ingram McKay! Clunk, clunk, clunk!” 

“Aw, buddy.” John reached for him. 

“Don’t. Don’t you humor me!”

John put his hands on his hips and looked at Rodney patiently. “Jips,” he said.

“What?”

“My first nickname at school. John Patrick Sheppard. Jips. Or Johnny Jips, or Jipsy.”

“Jipsy?” 

John shuddered. “But, I got Dave stuck with Davey Gravy.” 

“Well played.” 

“I’m not humoring you,” John said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just…I thought we divided it up. The freaking.” 

“Maybe I like to do a little crossover freaking now and then.” 

“Fair enough.” 

“So, Teyla’s coming. How’d you work that?”

John grinned. “Gift certificates and lots of begging.” 

“Really?”

“Naw, she caved pretty quickly. Torrin and Kaanan are going to do a bonding thing while she’s here, and then we get two weeks to ourselves and then Ronon is coming. After that they trust our Earth friends.” 

“She said that?”

“Ronon said that.”

“Cool.” 

~~~

“Is it bad that I’m relieved Teyla’s coming instead of my sister?”

“No, buddy, I get it. Jeannie’s…”

“Loud, critical, can shriek like a fishwife?” 

“I was going to say ‘not as calming as Teyla.’”

“Exactly.” 

“Not that I don’t…she’s my sister.”

“I know.” 

~~~

Jennifer, in the truly uncomfortable stage of pregnancy, promised that the shower would help distract them because they’d have stuff to put together. 

“And, if you’re in luck, I could have my baby right in the middle of the party! That would be distracting.” 

Rodney looked at her, horrified.

“Kidding, Rodney. Kid-ding.” 

~~~

“Did you know that ‘Edsel’ – Old English – means ‘rich?’”

“Why don’t we just call her ‘Bags of Money’?”

“No, you idiot, I’m sure it means ‘rich in spirit.’ I meant, you know…”

“Henry Ford should have picked a better name? Something in Old English that meant ‘Reliable and Nifty’?”

“Nifty?” 

“Come on, Rodney. Name me.” 

“’Efrosini’ means joy-satisfaction-jubilation. Greek.”

“Sounds like an appetizer.”

“’Efterpi,’ also Greek, means ‘pretty in face’.”

“Jumoke,” John said dismissively. It had become shorthand for “trying too hard.” 

“Seriously. Plus, it sounds like a sneeze.” He demonstrated. 

John, stretched out on the sofa, smiled broadly, his eyes closed. “You’re silly,” he drawled. 

“’Eulalia,’ Greek, means fair of speech.”

“Sounds like somebody’s maiden aunt.”

“Somebody’s elderly southern maiden aunt. ‘Eulalia!, bring me mah mint julep!’” Rodney hollered in an exaggerated accent. 

John snickered and wiggled happily. “Just so you know, these names are awful.” 

“I know. We’re palate-cleansing.” 

“Oh are we?“

“Mm-hmm.” He flipped a few pages. “Madhu, Hindu, means honey.”

“Madhu McKay, professional wrestler.”

“She drops the ‘Sheppard’?”

“Yes. I was heartbroken. Taught her all I knew.” 

“Maisie, Scottish, child of light. My family’s part Scottish, you know. ” 

“And part French-Canadian. But, I’m not naming our daughter after a cow.” 

“So should we focus on English-y, Scottish-y sounding names or French names or Urdu or what?” 

“I don’t know. I’m enjoying this. I keep thinking something will just click.” 

“Do you have any idea how many names there are?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ll just know it when you hear it?”

“Hope you will, too.” 

“Sometimes you mystify me.”

“Mystique, French, meaning ‘hot mutant.’” 

~~~

John made the mistake of reading one of the birthing chapters in one of his books – with attendant photos – and walked around ashen-faced all day, unable to eat. 

“I’m just glad it wasn’t a video,” he said hollowly, leaning against Rodney. 

“I’m just glad – and I can’t believe I’m saying this – it was me that had to deliver Torrin, you big baby.” 

“Seriously. Good job on that, buddy.” He shuddered. “They just shouldn’t put cameras down there, you know? It’s not right.”

“Tell me about it.” 

“She might go through it someday, “ John said as if suddenly realizing their daughter was going to grow up.. 

“Let’s get her born before we start worrying about her sex life or our future grandchildren.” 

“Her _sex life?_ ”

Rodney hung his head. “Crap.” 

~~~

“You know, Samantha is a good name,” Sam said brightly. “A smart name.”

“I’m not talking to you. You let the president come over before I had time to vacuum.” 

“He didn’t care. And you had fun, remember? We all had fun! Also, I think that was the gayest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

“I know,” Rodney sighed. “We’re just not having this conversation. I’m a little stressed about the names, okay?”

“Rodney…”

“OKAY?” 

Sam flipped her palms up. “Not another word from me.”

“That was _five_ words!”

Sam zipped her lips. Locked them. Threw away the key. 

~~~

About a week and a half before their daughter was due, they spent a couple of nights in Carson’s lab until he threw them out and told them to sleep while they could. 

“If ya can’t sleep and want to be useful, go let Jennifer and her man get a bit of sleep. Do you all good.” 

They slunk over a couple of afternoons so Jennifer could take a nap. 

“We could. You know. If you guys need a break,” John offered. “Sleep on the couch or something.” 

“That’s sweet, guys, but I just got my house back from my mother-in-law. We’ll be fine,” she yawned. “I’ll be over to see you guys in a couple of weeks.” 

~~~

What Carson didn’t say was that he was planning on sleeping in the lab himself the last week. Just in case the wee lassie got restless and impatient. God knew she had the right genetics for it.

~~

They spent one entire night struggling with names and finally called for reinforcements. 

“Or ridicule,” Rodney said tiredly. “It could go either way.”

John rubbed small, soothing circles on Rodney’s lower back. “It can’t be that bad.” 

“Oh yes it could. I’m thinking of asking for Meredith back.” 

“Do you know you cringe every time you say it?”

~~~

“Hey, lady,” Rodney said into the video camera.

“Hey, Uncle Mer. Whatcha doin’? Hey, Uncle John.” Madison waved. 

“Hey, sweetie,” John said. “We’re talking to your mom about baby names.”

“We’re kind of stuck,” Rodney admitted. 

“My baby’s name is Meredith,” Madison said proudly, then frowned. “Well, _Mommy’s_ baby.” 

Jeannie hitched Madison more comfortably against her side and rolled her eyes. “Do you have any ideas for your uncles, Mad?” 

“Well, yeah, duh. Belle.” 

“Madison,” Rodney said wearily, having instantly understood the reference from multiple viewings. Multiple multiples of viewings. “I’m not naming my daughter after a Disney character.” 

“Simba!” she giggled. “Ariel! Ursula!”

“Maddie,” John said slowly. “Why did you pick Belle?” Underneath the table, he gripped Rodney’s thigh tightly.

“’Cause she likes books,” Madison said. “An’ you like books, and Uncle Mer liked books before he became a computer head. “

“That’s…that’s really very sweet, Madison,” Rodney said softly. “Did you know it means beautiful?”

" _Beauty and the Beast?_ , hello? But mainly, I just think Belle’s smart. And really nice, but not a pushover. And she does science-y things with her dad. And she makes people happy.” 

Jeannie pressed her cheek against her daughter’s head and grinned at her brother and brother in law, her eyes shining. “No prompting,” she promised. “That was all my girl.”

“So unlike you,” Rodney gruffed. “Thanks, Madison.” Beside him, he could feel John nod. 

~~~

“So, did you hear a click?” 

John nodded, but his eyebrows were all scrunchy.

“What?”

“I can tell it’s not _quite_ right. But it’s so close.” 

“What about Bel-la? It fixes the clunk. Belle (clunk) McKay (clunk) Sheppard.”

“Bella McKay-Sheppard," John said slowly. "Hey,"he said as he raised his head and looked in Rodney's eyes, "Bella." 

Rodney fumbled for John's hand. "I know," he whispered thickly. "Click." 

~~~

Later, John murmured. “Now all we have to do is pick the middle name.” 

“ _Names._ I have given in to the inevitable. And could you just enjoy the glow for a moment?” 

“Sorry.” 

“ **I love you”** Rodney bellowed softly. John laughed and bit him. 

“Me too, you.” 

“You can do better than that.” Rodney slid his thigh between John’s.

John pressed closer, nipping little kisses along his shoulder. “Make me.” 

“Oh, you are on.” 

~~~

Rodney appeared in the kitchen the next morning, face flushed with triumph. 

“You’ve got it?”

“I’ve got it.” 

“Are you going to tell me?”

“Do you want to know? “

John thought for a long time. “No. Don’t want to hear it until she gets here. Just. Hint?” 

Rodney ticked off on his fingers. “Kind of a name from my family. Extended family. Name from your family. Person we miss. McKay-Sheppard. Beautiful strong or warrior without master bitter oath McKay-Sheppard

“Beautiful strong or warrior without master bitter oath?” 

“Gotta be this way. It almost spells out a fish name the other way. This way; no unfortunate nicknames.” 

“Sounds perfect.” 

~~~~


	5. In Which Sam and Jack are Very, Very Sneaky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Playwright Anton Checkov always says, "If in act I you show a pistol hanging on the wall, then it must fire in the last act." aka, close your plot-holes, dude. 
> 
> Originally published in 2009.

~~~~

Sam stopped over the night after the shower and bribed her way inside with Chinese food and promises of helping to put stuff together. 

“Who are you planning on feeding?” Rodney asked, looking askance at the bags of food.

“I like leftovers,” she said a little defensively. 

“There are leftovers in the fridge.” 

“I like _Chinese food_ leftovers. For breakfast.” 

About twenty minutes later, Jack O’Neil materialized on the deck, holding a truly enormous teddy bear and sporting an evil grin.

“Hi,” he said, leaning in through the sliding glass door, “hope you don’t mind if I brought a date.”

“Not that we were expecting you in the first place,” Rodney said. “And how did we not place you as a Furry?” 

“No, no, sir,” John added, pulling himself together and whacking Rodney across the chest, “that’s fine, come on in.” 

“You really gotta stop calling me sir,” Jack muttered, and tried to shove the bear into Rodney’s arms. Rodney shoved it right back. “And this is not my actual date.” 

Jack’s actual date emerged from the shadows into the light cast from inside the house. “Hi,” she said, her smile even brighter than her pictures. “Hope you don’t mind if _I_ brought a date.” 

“Hey,” said the date’s date. “I brought a crib and my own screwdriver.” 

“We’re like the Three Wise Men,” Jack said brightly, “but with practical stuff!” 

John felt Rodney grab onto the back of his belt as if to keep himself from falling over. He, on the other hand, snapped without conscious thought into a salute. 

“Mr. President,” he croaked, suddenly as unsteady as the day the president pinned a medal on John and saluted _him_. And here the man was on John’s back deck, returning the salute gravely. 

“Colonel, Dr. McKay,” he said as he lowered his hand, “it’s a pleasure.”

“Yes, sir,” John replied, feeling very surreal. “Thank you.” Rodney, uncharacteristically silent, nodded. 

“Could we drop the “sir” stuff and saluting?” Jack hissed, nudging John with the bear. “It’s a baby shower.” 

“He’s right,” President Obama said, extending his hand, “call me Barak. Though, I take it Jack or Sam over there didn’t mention we couldn’t come last night or ask if we could come today.” 

“My fault,” Jack raised his hand. “I like surprises.” When everyone who knew him (including the president) turned to stare at him, he added, “for _other_ people.” 

“Sir, this really is an honor,” John said, and stood back to wave the Obamas inside. 

Barak grinned. “I sure think so,” he said, clapping John on the shoulder. “Intergalactic heros. I hope you let us meet the baby, too. I hear it’s a girl?”

John nodded and Rodney said yes, bouncing happily. 

“Now those,” Michelle said, laughing, “those are girl-baby grins.” 

“There’s a difference?” Sam asked. 

“Extra goofy,” Michelle stage-whispered. 

John hid his now slightly embarrassed grin by pulling the sliding door closed. “You said there was a crib?”

Sam cleared her throat. “Remember when I insisted on taking all that stuff upstairs?”

“You put a location marker up there?” Rodney figured. 

“What?” she said, “It’s heavy.” 

~~~

“Sam,” Rodney hissed as they dished up the food, but not without considerable admiration, “you are unbelievable.”

“Hey,” she said, shooting him a grin “It’s what you get when you don’t handle your own r.s.v.p’s”

~~~

“Thanks,” Jack said to John as they rustled the second round of beer. “I know it’s a big surprise. He wanted to see you guys outside of briefings and the East Room and medal ceremonies. And Sam did invite them.”

“No, it’s cool,” John said. “They’re really nice.” He stopped for a moment, shook his head. “I’m talking about the president and his wife like they’re the new neighbors.” 

“I’ve had a lot worse neighbors,” Jack said, cracking a beer. “And he had a rough week,” Jack confided, “so...” John looked at him sharply. 

“Nothing like _that_ , just. You know, stuff. President stuff.” 

“That worse than Homeworld Security stuff?” 

“You have no idea. And if you did, I might have to shoot ya.” 

“My clearance is still pretty high, you know.”

Jack shrugged. “I know. Just on general principle.” 

~~~ 

Turned out, the President really wanted to put up the crib; he wasn’t kidding about the screwdriver. 

“I know it’s kind of silly,” he admitted as they sliced open the box. “It’s just, I. Feel kind of, um…” he took off his baseball cap and rubbed the back of his head, uncharacteristically at a loss for words. 

“Obligated?” Jack offered, propped in the arms of the enormous teddy bear. 

“Jack,” the president scolded.

“Okay,” Michelle cut in, “the best thing we can come up with is fairy godmother.”

“Father,” Barak corrected, “ _parents_.” 

“Oh no,” Michelle grinned fondly, “you got into this one all on your own.” 

“Oh, right. If I had said no and you found out? You would have kicked my ass.” 

Rodney had a small coughing fit and John rubbed his back automatically, looking kind of dazed. 

“Did you even think of saying no?” Michelle asked sweetly. 

“Actually, no.” 

“And, hey, we already have a quota of fairies, here,” Jack drawled.

John and Sam snorted beer up their noses. Rodney squawked.

“Oh,” Jack said happily, “Daniel says he’s sorry he couldn’t make it. That was for him.” 

Barak offered Sam his handkerchief and said to John, who was trying to discreetly wipe his nose. “I just love my girls and…”

“You never get to trump a Nobel,” Rodney guessed. 

Barack Obama shrugged his shoulders and grinned. “Yep.”

~~~

“I like the solar system motif,” Michelle said to John while they watched their respective husbands crawl around on the floor, sorting the pieces out. 

“We didn’t want to go overboard on girly, pinky stuff,” John said, scratching the back of his neck. 

“Trust me, if she likes it, you’ll have plenty of it later.” 

John looked over at her, eyebrows raised. 

“Oooooh, yeah. Plenty.” She pointed to the wall mural. “Is that your work? It’s beautiful.”

“Not exactly, my ex-second-in-command made us a stencil thing. We’re almost done.” 

“And that?” She pointed an original painting of Lorne’s; Atlantis in flight.

“That’s what Rodney calls a ‘real’ rocket ship.”

“Not exactly a rocket,” Rodney muttered, helping Barack sort through the bag of screws and bolts. 

“Oh my God,” Michelle said, straightening abruptly. “I came here on a space ship.” 

“I was wondering when that would hit you,” Barak teased, smiling at her over his shoulder.

“Like you fly one every week,” Michelle said, rolling her eyes. 

“Would if I could.”

“Me too,” said everyone not named Obama.

Michelle burst out laughing. 

~~~


	6. New Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're about a month in.

~~~

Ronon showed up on their doorstep with a scowl, a huge duffel and Sam. 

“Thanks for picking me up,” he growled. 

“It’s time for you to be here?” Rodney swayed, hanging onto the door because it was nice and steady. His eyes prickled and watered and he vaguely thought he might be crying. “Ohthankgod.” 

“Okay, that explains that,” Sam said, gently shoving him inside. Rodney hovered uncertainly for a moment, then fell forward against Ronon in what could loosely be termed a hug. Mostly he was just glad to lean against something warm that smelled nice. Ronon smelled all Ronon-y. 

“I thought you were looking in on them,” Ronon said, adjusting Rodney’s weight. 

“I was just here two – oh, oh my. 

~~~

“I gotta tell you, buddy, I love my family, but I’d gladly sell them for a hot shower, a hot meal and some sleep. Possibly just the sleep.” 

“Wow.” 

John made a face so sad, Ronon nearly laughed out loud. “I know. ‘M a terrible person.”

“No, you say ‘love’ now. Without, the, um…” 

“Throwing up? Comic book references?” 

“Yeah.” 

“There was,” he made a vague gesture, “some yelling and stuff.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“To practice.” Sheppard looked at him earnestly.

“Practice arguing? You and McKay?” Ronon laughed.

“No!” John tried to hit him with a baby blanket. “We yelled the…we yelled because we love!” Ronon dodged him easily and Sheppard fell over on the sofa and looked at the ceiling awhile. “What was I saying?”

“You should stop talking now.” This was better than the ruus wine incident.

“’kay.” Already half-asleep, Sheppard sounded grateful.


End file.
